


Wandering eyes

by Cleverbreawisekylan



Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleverbreawisekylan/pseuds/Cleverbreawisekylan
Summary: Based off a post on tumblr by noodleypie, the ensuing of Brea catching sight of a shirtless Kylan
Relationships: Brea/Kylan (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Wandering eyes

Kylan quietly excuses himself from the group, taking the moment of respite to observe the still, blue waters not too far from their camp. The water brushes ever so softly against the muddy banks, holding floating grasses and aquatic creatures within. If he squints, he can spy a pair of yellow eyes bobbing up and down on its iridescent surface.

A long sigh pushes from his lungs, the travelling once again taking its toll on the song teller’s body. He stares once more to the waters, which sing to him in the most enticing of ways. With a smile creeping onto his lips, he sheds himself of his outer layers and slowly steps into the chilly pool. Toes first, then a tentative leg and finally he is submerged in its embrace.

Wading out deeper into the small lake, he moves past the darting fish and twinkling dragonflies that surround him. He feels a swell of relief flooding his body as he begins to rid himself of the accumulated dirt and sticks and leaves that seem to be stuck to him like sweet nectar to a flower. They begin to float around him, still reluctant to leave his side.

Kylan’s eyes widen with a deep frown. Was he really that _dirty_?

Still, with an affirmative shake of his head, he realises it no longer matters. The lake will clean him up good as new and they can continue their journey. It’s times like this that he longs for the warmer waters back home, even the basins and baths they created for some of their homes. Some with boiled water and flowering petals of greens, blues, reds … all bringing with them delicate and pleasing scents. 

He doesn’t dare smell himself now. Kylan knows he hardly smells of peachberries anymore.

With hands calloused and bruised from the harrowing journey, he lifts water to his face and down his neck. Then moves to wet his hair with the same cold waters. It causes his skin to prick with goosepimples, a shiver shooting down his spine. Even in his icy surroundings, he enjoys the feeling of content and, without realising, starts humming delicate notes under his breath. They float out into the blue sky as the sisters watch ahead above him, bathing him in their glorious light. Said light reaches to the bottom of the lake, waters so clear that Kylan finds snails and fish and water dwelling insects staring back at him.

The wind whistles back at him, her sweet voice a perfect accompaniment. Everything is so serene that he doesn’t notice he’s closed his eyes until a _crack_ echoes at the tree line.

Those eyes snap open in a second.

Kylan expects to see danger – a skeksis or some darkened creature, but instead he sees something that causes his entire body to pale as white as the sisters above him. “ _Oh_ ,” comes Brea’s shocked voice, her amber eyes widening as she’s stumbled upon him.

It takes him a couple of seconds to actually register that the Vapran princess is stood before him, and a couple more for Kylan to remember that he _isn’t wearing any clothes._

“Brea!”

His response is a combination of horrified, embarrassed and surprise. When he sees her eyes dip down toward his very naked chest, he himself sinks into the icy water, his cheeks pink but not from the cold.

Her expression matches his, and she’s already starting to stumble backwards, squeaking out an apologetic, “sorry!”

And then she’s gone as quickly as she came, but her presence was definitely noticed. Kylan sits shivering in the water with barely his eyes peeking out onto the rippling surface. Dark hair fanning out around him, he wishes that a whole would appear in the lake and he could just disappear into it.

* * *

“How did you get fish in your hair?” Naia question outright as he sits in front of her with face covered in shame. All he can see in his head is Brea’s expression as her focussed stare settles on him.

He must not reply fast enough for she asks him again, adding his name for emphasis. He twists, which is difficult when his tangled hair lies in her strong hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Naia picks up his change of demeanour in an instant, voice softening. “Is everything okay?” Genuine concern laces her words, and for a moment he’s more thankful than humiliated.

This is when Kylan sighs, a matter of resolve settling over him. She’s sure to find out anyway, isn’t she? At least this way it can come from him and not as a series of whispers from one ear to another. Shoulders slumping, he recalls the incident. “I was bathing in the lake …”

“Ah.” She begins with a grin. “That would explain the fish.”

He manages a small smile, yet its power wavers as he continues. “I was minding my own business when Brea saw me.”

“Brea?”

He nods.

“In the lake?”

Kylan nods once more, the action more emphasised for effect.

Then, with the biggest smirk he’s ever seen Naia don, she gleefully asks. “While you were _bathing_?”

“Yes!” He resists the urge to roll his eyes at her teasing, and moves to cross his arms in annoyance. “She didn’t mean to … but she saw – things.” Kylan’s ears twitch with anxiety at exactly what she’d seen. His heart beats erratically, just as it had done in those very moments in the lake.

She, again, picks up on his behaviour and stifles her giggles. “Oh Kylan.” Naia’s voice is gentle, apologetic. She finishes the last bit of work on his hair, trying to put his mind elsewhere. “There. Do you want me to braid it for you?”

Shaking his head, he tries to hide his pink cheeks from his friend. “It’s okay. It’ll let it dry.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, not the most comfortable of them, but far from awkward. It becomes a whole lot tenser when Naia makes her leaving statement of unequivocal optimism. “Well, Kylan. As much as what happened may seem like a disaster, maybe Brea . . . like what she saw.”

He balks at the very idea from his friend, even as she leaves. The longer he’s left in solitude to think about it, the more it eats away at him. What had Brea thought? Her appearance had been short, and her reaction similar to his but there had definitely been peeking!

He huffs out loud, pushing those thoughts from his head.

Yet as much as he tries, the universe is not on his side and shadowed movement appears from outside their hastily put up tent. At first he thinks it’s Naia returning but instead he catches flashes of silver locks. Body straightening and heart seizing in a panic, he watch Brea step inside.

His ‘hello’ gets caught tightly in his throat, but she manages one of her own. Kylan catches the way her gaze keeps firmly to his eyes, as though she’s forces herself not to wander. “I just wanted to apologise,” she begins, “for walking in on you like that. It was a complete accident!”

“It’s fine.” He clears his throat.

“I was just checking if you were okay.” She continues as though he hadn’t so easily forgiven her. “You’d been gone a while.”

He shrugs, more tense than casual. “No harm done.”

Brea blinks, pink creeping across her high cheekbones. “I am mortified.” She admits.

“… me too.” A strained, yet soft laugh follows. “No one has seen me bathing since I was a childling.”

She closes her eyes then, as though inwardly cursing her actions once more, highlighted by the wince on her expression. “I would never have done that to you intentionally.”

“I know.”

Her eyes flicker to his now clothed body, before nervously darting up to his face again. She steps closer, fingers nervously playing with the spine of her journey that she carries in her arms. Even so, a smile graces her pale lips. “You look different with your hair down,” she observes, much to his surprise.

He nods. It’s only really during bathing that he’ll free his long, black locks from the braids. Sometimes before sleep but he finds that the tangles and knots that he gets from sleep are not worth the effort. She kneels on the hard floor next to him, knees brushing against his.

“I like it.”

Kylan feels all the air fly out of his lungs as she speaks, face so close to his that if he wanted to he could lean over and kiss her. And he _does_ want to.

Her light eyes once again hold his attention, almost like gold pools that he could get lost in. He opens his mouth to speak and is victimised by his own nervousness, all words failing him. Kylan inwardly cries in frustration – how could someone so apt at words become such an anxious wreck around her?

She leans in that little bit closer, lowering her journal out of the way. As Brea does so, her hand sneaks past his and he stares at her pale skin next to his own dark fingers. He smiles.

“Did you, um, tell anyone what happened?” Brea questions after a drawn pause.

He sheepishly nods. “Naia knows.”

“Oh.”

“She thinks it’s funny.”

Brea lifts her gaze, then lets a chuckle flow over those lips that he can’t stop staring at. “I suppose it is.” Her laughs are like an airy song that fills his heart. “Can you imagine walking in on Naia bathing? Or if someone did that to _Seladon_?” The very idea brings of bubble of intense laughter, so much so that she holds her stomach to steady herself. Kylan, despite himself, joins in and eases more into the conversation.

“Let’s hope you don’t make a habit of it.” He jokes, catching her gaze.

Her face goes as pink as a peachberry and in a rare moment she struggles for something to say.

“Not every gelfling might be as understanding as me.”

“I don’t plan on doing it to any other gelfling.” She clarifies.

“Then I’m the lucky one.”

It’s another offhanded joke, its meaning not obvious until the words have already left his lips, and as they dawn on him he takes on the most startled look. Brea, too, seems caught off guard by it, ears standing back in surprise.

“I mean –” He begins, only to cut himself short. Kylan knows that he is just digging himself into a hole at this point.

Then it’s Brea’s words which add another element of shock to his words. “I’d say that _I’m_ the lucky one.” And then she lets her gaze take a leisurely stroll down to his now shirt covered chest, making no effort to stop herself. His heart pumps wildly in his ear, hands sweating even in the cold of the night.

“What?”

Brea moves closer, and even though her breaths are light he can feel them on his skin. The air between them fills with growing tension, the world turning still and silent save for the frenzy going on in his own head. On the outside, he tries to give little away. She lifts a hand, her movements nervous but confident as it lands on his chest. It settles over the thin layer of cloth and he’s sure she can feel the way he sucks in a sharp breath.

In turn, Kylan peers down and watches as she begins unbuttoning ever so delicately down the tunic. Her eyes grow wider and darker as more of his skin is revealed, under the soft fingers bring a tremble to his bare chest.

Now she looks up, and he catches her eyes. His own stare back, as if to ask ‘are you sure?’

Her answer is simple, lips catching his in an unsuspecting kiss. They are delicate and probing, and altogether wonderful. In the midst of the chaotic world in, the two settle into a bubble of happiness as Kylan kisses back. At first, he holds back, until confidence races through him and he lifts a hand to gently cup the porcelain skin just under her chin.

He can feel her fingers still on his chest, and as their movements deepen she catches the ‘v’ in his tunic, scrunching it tightly between her hand as though to steady herself. Kylan, himself, feels as though he is floating on air, lips dancing with Brea’s in perfect timing. He’s both breathless and alive simultaneously, head dizzy with giddiness.

Her other hand is wandering, finding itself caught in his dark tangles of hair. His soul sighs with happiness at the connection, something he’d honestly thought he’d never experience, especially not with someone like _Brea_. As the kisses continue, it becomes far more than physical. It’s as though two become one, knowing each movement that the other will make. Their breaths match, as do their heartbeats, and if he listens closely to the song of her heart, he can decipher each and every note.

After what feels like an eternity, she reluctantly pulls herself away from him, but doesn’t let him go of her gaze. In all fairness, he doesn’t want to be let go.

Her eyes are beautifully wide, lips plump from their kisses and her chest heaving with excitement. In the close proximity, he can still _hear_ the beating of her heart in his own mind, joining his in a perfectly synched song that sings of happiness and joy and relief.

She begins peeling her hand from her now crumpled shirt. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I –”

“Don’t apologise.” He insists, reaching up to take hold of her hand and caress it adoringly between his own fingers. Then he adds, with pink cheeks and twitching ears, “and for the record, I’m really glad it was _you_ that saw me, and not Naia or Seladon.”

Brea giggles carelessly, leaning into his chest. He allows himself to smile then, kissing her brow.


End file.
